


Quiet Time

by fuzipenguin



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Established Relationship, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-29
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sideswipe is just a little too fidgety for the designated 'Quiet Time'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet Time

**Author's Note:**

> Another early effort. Originally published on LiveJournal 11/6/11

     “I’m bored,” Sideswipe whined, flipping onto his belly and flopping over [the edge of](http://fuzipenguin.livejournal.com/334105.html) his berth. His head and arm dangled as he peered at his brother.  
  
     Sunstreaker pushed a swinging arm out of the way and shifted closer to the wall. “I don’t care.”  
  
     “But you _have_ to care! It’s your _duty_ to keep me occupied!” Sideswipe replied.  
  
     Sunstreaker eyed the room’s third occupant who was doing his best to keep his attention focused on the data pad held in his hand. “Go bother Ratchet,” Sunstreaker suggested.  
  
     Ratchet glared at Sunstreaker and then focused more intently on his data pad.  
  
     Sideswipe’s optics flickered to the medic. “But he’s scary,” Sideswipe mock whispered.  
  
     Sunstreaker briefly glanced upwards to the ceiling as if asking help from Primus. “So am I,” he reminded his twin, tone dark.  
  
     Sideswipe rolled back over with a loud sigh. He shifted onto his left side, digits picking at the edges of his blanket. A few moments later, he rolled to the opposite side, feet shifting restlessly.  He heaved another, more dramatic sigh and pouted.  
  
      _No one loves me_ , he petulantly sent to both Ratchet and Sunstreaker.  
  
     “You’re right,” Ratchet said absently. “We don’t. Hard to love somebot that interrupts the one hour that we all agreed upon would be quiet time. Now find something to occupy yourself with.” The steely ‘or else’ was not voiced, but all three knew it was there.  
  
     Sideswipe pouted all the more and then realized no one could see it here with his faceplates tucked into a corner. Unable to sit still, he allowed his processor free rein, their version of daydreaming. It dipped in and out of data [banks](http://fuzipenguin.livejournal.com/334105.html) while Sideswipe absently began tapping at the wall.  
  
     Tap. Taptaptap. Taptap. Pause. Tap. Tappity taptap. Pause.  
  
     Below, Sunstreaker was seen to be gritting his denta together when Ratchet glanced over. _I’m gonna kill him_ , Ratchet received.  
  
     Taptaptaptaptaptap… “Sideswipe!”  
  
     The prankster looked over his shoulder, almost surprised to hear another voice. “Hmm?”  
  
     “Stop the tapping,” Ratchet demanded.  
  
     “Fine.” Sideswipe grumbled something else under his breath, but stopped the annoying sounds. He flipped onto his back, arms and legs spread akimbo and heaved yet another sigh. It was ignored just as all the previous had been, much to his frustration.  
  
     For at least ten minutes, the other two occupants experienced blessed silence except for the hum of their own engines and the scratch of charcoal across Sunstreaker’s canvas. After that, they forgot about the third member in the room, caught up in the quiet.  
  
     Sideswipe grinned up at the ceiling when his processor stumbled across a memory from last night. He grabbed at it, started it from the beginning, and squirmed a little on the berth. Oooh, Ratchet had been so loud…  
  
     Sideswipe shifted again, one hand lightly smoothing over his chassis. The other reached up and touched his own faceplates, softly touching along his cheeks until reaching his lipplates. His glossa licked out, flicking against a digit, and he drew it in, sucking on it while recalling the feel of something bigger and hotter.   
  
     As he swirled his glossa around his own digit, his other hand dipped into the transformation seams at his sides, tweaking cables. A little satisfied noise escaped him when his hand brushed down over hip and inner thigh seams. His thighs parted eagerly, and he traced the edges of his own interface panel, optics slipping closed.  
  
     Sideswipe let his moistened digit slip out of his mouth. The hand created abstract patterns over his chassis and lower abdomen, finally meeting up with its counterpart between his legs. A small snick signaled the release of his panel, and it drew back, his spike fully pressurizing and rising proudly from the apex of his thighs. With a pleased sigh, he dipped his digits into his leaking valve and then swirled lubricant over the head of his spike. Squirming once more, he slid his palm down his length and then back up, setting a leisurely pace. The rest of the room was now faded into the background as Sideswipe pleasured himself.

* * *

  
   
       Sunstreaker had had long practice in tuning his brother out, especially when he was bored. Sunstreaker had completely blocked him from the bond and was deeply involved in his current sketch when the pungent odor of lubricant floated down to his sensors. Blinking his optics to clear the haze that drawing always left him in, he looked around. Ratchet was still engrossed in his medical text, which of course left Sideswipe. A pleased little moan emerged from above Sunstreaker’s head, and his optics were drawn upwards to stare at the underside of Sideswipe’s berth.  
  
     Another moan sounded, louder this time, and now Ratchet glanced up from his data pad to look over at the Twins’ berth. He looked taken back for a second, and then his data pad dipped dangerously low as Ratchet’s optics lit with interest.  
  
      _What is he doing?_ Sunstreaker asked.  
  
      _You really have to ask?_ Ratchet replied wryly. He sent Sunstreaker an image, shifting a little in his chair. Sunstreaker smiled internally at Ratchet’s reaction. Their bond was still new, and Ratchet was easily enticed into reaffirming it and pleasure making, much to the medic’s dismay.  
  
     Sunstreaker placed his drawing to the side and slid his legs over the edge of the berth, seeing Ratchet stand and begin approaching, his optics affixed to the activity on the top bunk. Sunstreaker turned as Ratchet came up to his side and felt his own engine begin to purr at the sight Sideswipe made.  
  
     Sideswipe was sprawled, legs obscenely wide as he repeatedly dipped his fingers into his valve. His backstruts arched a little as the digits went deep, his other hand teasingly sliding along his spike. Sideswipe’s mouth was open in breathy moans, his optics clenched shut as his hips tilted so he could give himself better access.  
  
     “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Ratchet said. It started out as demanding, but then his tone turned low and heated at the end.  
  
     Sideswipe slowly turned his head, his optics slitting open. A slow smile spread across his faceplates as his hands and hips continued to move. “Occupying myself,” he explained, the very picture of debauchery.  
  
     Even Sunstreaker found his slowly writhing brother hard to ignore, and he’d had eons of practice. Ratchet was a goner. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the berth to support himself as his optics were drawn again and again to Sideswipe’s skillful hands. Trickles of pleasure seeped across their bond as Sideswipe removed the blocks he had set up to keep the others from knowing what he had been doing.  
  
     “Hour’s up,” Sideswipe said, static around the edges of his words. “Gonna occupy me yourself now?”  
  
     Ratchet growled a little, and Sideswipe’s lazy grin widened. “Come on, baby. Primus only knows what I’ll get up to if I don’t have a keeper.”  
  
     “You got that right,” Sunstreaker said with a snort. He moved behind Ratchet, sliding hands along the medic’s sides, prompting a little sigh from him.  
  
     “You’re insatiable,” Ratchet grumbled, but his hands shot out and grabbed Sideswipe’s hip, pulling him closer to the edge. The medic was at the perfect height; the top of his shoulders just coming up to the edge of the berth, and it was easy for him to lean forward and lick the leaking head of Sideswipe’s spike.  
  
     Sideswipe’s optics slid nearly closed in pleasure as Ratchet’s glossa laved him. Ratchet pushed Sideswipe’s hand out of the way and slid his own digits into Sideswipe’s heated valve, stroking the sensor nodes deep inside. Sideswipe wriggled happily, and he reached out to caress and pet at Ratchet’s bent head.  
  
     Sunstreaker pressed up against the medic’s back, getting a great view of the action over Ratchet’s shoulder. The warrior nudged Ratchet’s legs apart and slipped a hand between the medic’s thighs, finding his panel already retracted and lubricant dripping from his valve. When Sunstreaker fondled the edges of Ratchet’s valve, he choked a little around his mouthful before regaining his composure. Sunstreaker grinned against the back of Ratchet’s neck, denta nipping at the sensitive cables there.  
  
     “Mmm, that’s right, baby, ooohhh, I love your hands and mouth,” Sideswipe moaned wantonly, his hips making slow pushes of his spike into Ratchet’s mouth.  
  
     Sunstreaker kept an optic on his brother’s pleasure-twisted face while Sunstreaker’s own panel flicked aside, his spike rapidly pressurizing and sliding between Ratchet’s wet thighs. Ratchet pushed back against the pressure, a hand scrambling to grasp at Sunstreaker’s hip.  
  
     Sideswipe was flooding the bond now, making it near impossible for Sunstreaker to wait more than scissoring three digits quickly inside Ratchet’s valve to make sure he was ready. Ratchet’s grip on Sunstreaker’s hip tightened as the fingers were removed, and Sunstreaker’s thick spike pierced Ratchet’s valve.  
  
     Ratchet whimpered, aft pushing back to meet every one of Sunstreaker’s thrusts. The medic’s fingers plunged deep into Sideswipe’s valve over and over as he sucked harder on the spike in his mouth. Sideswipe threw his head back, whining continuously, filthy words spewing out of his mouth as the pleasure built, the bond echoing and amplifying it between the three of them.  
  
     Sunstreaker’s intakes heaved as he gripped Ratchet’s hips, spike plunging into Ratchet’s quivering valve in harder, deeper thrusts. The sound of metal impacting metal rang out around them, accompanied by growls and moans. Sunstreaker dipped a hand over Ratchet’s hip, finding and stroking his spike in a bruising grip. It was too much for Ratchet, and he stiffened, his hips grinding back onto Sunstreaker’s spike. Ratchet cried out, overload sweeping through him and making him slump, Sideswipe’s spike slipping from his mouth.  
  
     Sideswipe cursed as Ratchet’s release washed over him through the bond. His valve tightened around the fingers inside, a wash of lubricant soaking the berth beneath him. Transfluid erupted from his spike, spurting over Ratchet’s lipplates and dripping down his chin. Sideswipe’s optics followed the trail of transfluid and then focused on the stuttering drive of Sunstreaker’s hips against their mate’s aft. Sunstreaker growled as he bit down hard on the back of Racthet’s neck, spike making several short jabs into Ratchet’s sopping valve until Sunstreaker overloaded as well, clutching at Ratchet’s waist to stay upright.  
  
     Ratchet’s forehelm made a clunking sound as it impacted against the edge of Sideswipe’s berth. “You’ll be the death of me,” he groaned, hips still moving in faint circles against Sunstreaker’s pelvis.  
  
     “Ah, but what a way to go!” Sideswipe said, his head pillowed on his arm as he watched his bondeds ease down from their high. “Have I ever mentioned how much I like quiet time?”  
  
  
  
~ End


End file.
